


Worship

by zaphodsgirl



Series: Forgive Me, Father [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Priest Castiel, don't get comfortable there though, oh no it gets cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-13 18:19:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12989808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaphodsgirl/pseuds/zaphodsgirl
Summary: Dean explores Cas a little further.





	Worship

Dean takes Castiel's hand at the bottom of the stairs and makes his way slowly to the top, two steps above him, turning every so often to look back as Castiel follows dumbly, suddenly aware of the wet mess inside his boxers as his feet move from step to step. At the top Dean turns to the right, crossing the landing to the first door, already open as they move through it. There's no one else in the house, but Dean pushes the door shut firmly with his free hand, pressing his palm into the wood as he regards the man in his bedroom.

Castiel swallows as Dean pulls him closer, leaning back on the bedroom door and pulling Castiel up against his chest, wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning in to capture his lips. Castiel clutches at his biceps, pressing up against him as he gets lost in the heated, wet press of their tongues. 

Part of him thinks he must be dreaming, must have fallen asleep clutching Dean's bible to his heated skin, but he makes no attempt to dispel the fantasy. If this is all in his mind, he'll happily get lost there and never come back. 

Dean breaks the kiss softly, mouthing along the corded muscle of Castiel's neck before he rakes an earlobe through his teeth. Castiel moans, the sensation causing his whole body to shiver, and Dean leans back to grin at him. His eyes move to the collar at Castiel's throat, darkening as they focus on that white strip of plastic before he reaches up to carefully remove it. He reaches to place it on a bureau by the door before he moves his hands to undo the buttons of Castiel's shirt from the top. 

"I can't believe you're finally here," Dean whispers to him, releasing the first button, then another with unhurried focus. "At first, I thought that if I spent more time with Father Novak," Castiel closes his eyes at the title, "that I might stop wanting you so much." Four buttons. Five. He leans in to whisper in Castiel's ear as his hands make slow progress to his belt. "I just wanted you _more."_ He pulls at the dark fabric, freeing the wrinkled shirt tail from where it's been tucked in and opening the last few buttons. 

Castiel puts his arms down as Dean slides the shirt from his shoulders, following it down both arms with his hands and taking it lightly in one as it leaves Castiel's fingertips. He walks to a chair in the corner and carefully drapes the shirt over it as Castiel turns to watch, leaning back against the door until Dean returns. He hooks Castiel by his belt, a single finger working under it and pulling until Castiel himself is standing by the chair, where Dean unbuckles his belt. He pulls the leather sinuously from the loops, their eyes never leaving one another, and when it's free he wraps it around Castiel's back and pulls him close.

"Will you promise me something?" Dean asks, voice husky, and Castiel nods helplessly. "I want you to be free, in here. When you're here with me, I want you to be completely unrestrained, unfettered. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel breathes, putting his arms around Dean's neck. "But I should tell you..." he trails off, suddenly nervous and shy despite what happened downstairs fifteen minutes ago. 

"Tell me what?" Dean slides the belt over the swell of Castiel's ass, letting it fall across the top of his thighs, keeping it taut so that they're pressed together intimately. Castiel can't seem to find the words, what he needs to say suddenly more difficult than anything he's ever professed in the confessional. He looks away and bites his lip as Dean waits patiently, wondering if his admission will affect whatever Dean has planned.

"I've never done any of this before."

"Any of what, exactly?" Dean asks with a soft smile that Castiel catches just briefly before he hangs his head.

"Everything we've done since you kissed me downstairs." He swallows, but doesn't raise his head. "Everything we _will_ do. So you may need to be very patient with me."

"Oh, Cas," Dean breathes, dropping the belt to lift his head with gentle hands, forcing Castiel to meet his gaze. "As long as you’re naked and willing I can be _very_ patient." He rubs his thumbs along Castiel's cheekbones and looks suddenly unsure of himself. "Do you? Want this? Did I...did I go too far downstairs?" 

Castiel raises his hands to clasp Dean's own belt, unhooking it and pulling it free as Dean's mouth drops open and his eyes glaze over. 

"I don't think you went far _enough_ , Dean," Cas says huskily, leaning in to kiss Dean fiercely, pulling his shirt out of his pants and drawing back just enough to pull it over his head before he rips off his own white undershirt, pressing their bare chests together and running his fingers over Dean's ribs as he mouths at his neck. Dean's breath is ragged and he grips Cas hard at the waist. 

"I think you're a natural, Cas," Dean manages to get out, and Castiel pulls away with a smirk. 

"I may be inexperienced, Dean, but I'm not completely ignorant." He works at the button on Dean's jeans, thumbing it open with one hand as he unzips them with the other. He pushes them off Dean's hips, and as they fall to his feet Castiel steps away from him, backing towards the bed and stepping out of his shoes as he goes. Dean looks thunderstruck for a moment, unable to move, and then grins as he toes out of his own shoes and follows Cas with a predatory look. 

Castiel stops at the edge of the bed to undo the button on his black slacks, but Dean's hands take over, moving under the fabric and sliding across the globes of his ass to push them off. Cas steps out of them as he lays across the mattress, pulling Dean after him by the hand, and then their bodies are pressing together with nothing between them but their already soiled boxers. Dean leans up on his elbows to look at Castiel.

"What do you want, Cas?" Dean asks huskily, before leaning down to mouth at the exposed skin of Castiel's collarbone, licking into the hollow at his throat. 

"I want you _naked_ , Dean," is all he can manage to get out, and Dean drags his lips across Castiel's heated skin, feather light as they travel down. He rakes his teeth across an exposed hipbone as he pulls Castiel's boxers off and throws them off the bed. "I said you, not me." 

"Bossy," Dean remarks with a smirk, pushing off his own boxers and throwing them in the same direction. Both of them are hard again now, and Castiel thinks even this won't last very long as Dean languorously draws himself up and across his body, slotting their rigid lengths together. 

"Oh, god," Castiel says, grasping at the globes of Dean's ass as he rolls his hips against him. One hand holds tight as the other wanders, up across the skin of Dean's back, down along his ribs. So much naked skin, all of it sensual to his touch as Dean kisses him fully, their tongues wrangling together as their bodies intertwine. 

"Are you allowed to say that right now," Dean remarks playfully, and Castiel can't help but laugh before he throws his head back with a groan.

"I'm going to..." he manages to get out, and Dean rolls off him so suddenly he gasps for breath. 

"Uh-uh," he says into Castiel's ear, keeping their bodies apart. "Catch your breath for a minute, and then we'll start again." 

"Dean," he whines, turning onto his side and trying to pull Dean close to him, but a pair of strong hands stop him, one gripping his hip while the other pushes against his chest.

"No, you don't," Dean says. "Things happened too quickly downstairs, and that wasn't how I imagined it at all for our first time. This, however," he says, taking the hand from Castiel's hip to trace just a finger along the length of his rigid shaft, "I want to take my time with. Unless there's somewhere else you need to be?" 

Cas shakes his head rapidly, and Dean presses their foreheads together as he takes one of Castiel's hands in his, intertwining their fingers and holding their clasped hands against his chest. Eventually Cas regains control of himself, and Dean rolls away just far enough to open a bedside drawer and remove a bottle of lube. Castiel tenses a bit, and Dean seems to pick up on his hesitance. 

"Hey, it's okay. It's too soon for that, okay? This is just to make things a little easier, more pleasurable, okay? We're not going that far yet, I promise." 

"But we will later?" Cas says, unable to keep the hopeful note out of his voice. Dean gives him an easy smile, then a light kiss.

"Another day, maybe," he says, squeezing some of the liquid onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up. 

"You mean, you want to do this again?" Cas says in disbelief. "This isn't just..."

"If you think this is the only time I'm going to get you naked in this bed, now that I finally get to have you, you're out of your mind," Dean says breathlessly, taking Castiel in hand and stroking him with a lubed fist. "I'm not taking my time with you because I think this is the only time we'll do this," he whispers in Castiel's ear as he whimpers and thrusts helplessly into Dean's hand. "I'm taking my time because I've been dreaming about making you feel good for so long." He leans their hips together, rubbing his lubed hand over his own stiff cock before taking them both in hand together. 

"Oh, Dean," Cas groans, clutching at him, lost to the sensation of them sliding together. 

"Put your hand over mine, Cas," he directs, and Cas reaches between them to obey. Dean takes his time, building them back up slowly, sinuously twisting their joined hands around their cocks. Castiel loses all sense of reason and time, focusing only on the joined points of their bodies: the slick slide, legs tangled together, his forehead beading with sweat as he gasps into Dean's shoulder. 

"I'm close again," he finally says, the heat that's been slowly pooling in his belly finally reaching the point where it will spill over, and Dean leans down to kiss his temple. 

"Look at me, Cas," he says, and it's more of a request than a command. "I want to watch you."

Their eyes lock, and Cas is amazed at the way Dean looks at him, twin pools of lust that are somehow for him. It's hard to focus as he reaches the crest, and he has to fight not to close his eyes and throw his head back with a shout. He keeps eye contact as he moans Dean's name lowly, his second release splashing between them and over their joined hands, and Dean follows him almost immediately. 

They lie there in the growing dark, panting into each other's mouths as they come down from their high, and then Dean pecks Cas on the lips before rolling out of the bed. He disappears for a moment, and Cas rolls onto his back, wondering what he should do now. He's never been in this situation before. Should he get dressed and ready to leave, or would that seem rude? He certainly doesn't _want_ to go, but he's not sure if Dean wants him to stick around. He's managed to sit up and get one leg off the bed when Dean comes back into the room with a wet washcloth. 

"Hey," he says, coming over to place a hand against Castiel's shoulder. "What's your hurry?" 

"Oh, I wasn't, I just, uh," he stammers, and Dean pushes gently until he lies back down, then cleans him up with the warm washcloth before setting it aside. He sits down on the bed next to Castiel, who can't help but stare at him in adoration. Dean places a hand on his stomach, gently caressing the trail of hair there before he looks up at him.

"I know I can't ask you to spend the night," Dean finally says, and Cas nods. Too many questions would be asked. "But I was hoping you could stay a little longer? Just curled up with me under the blankets?"

Cas nods, and Dean's answering smile is bright enough to rival the sun as he climbs over Cas and maneuvers them both under the covers. He turns onto his side as though he wants to spoon, but Cas turns into him instead. 

"I just want to look at you," he says and Dean nods, tangling their legs together just as their fingers intertwine and their breaths intermingle in the growing dark.


End file.
